


Chasing Posey

by lheadley



Series: Chasing Posey [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Bottom!Tyler, Chaser!Dylan, Chubby Tyler, Fat Character, Frotting, M/M, Pizza, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pure fantasy, RPF, Top!Dylan, chubby!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:19:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lheadley/pseuds/lheadley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff told Posey he needed to lose weight before the next round of shirtless scenes. Dylan came up with an interesting way of working up a sweat.</p><p> </p><p>Check the tags - this is not reality. If chubby Posey or Posey / O'Brien are not your thing there are plenty of other fics to float your boat, give this one a miss.Otherwise constructive criticism always welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chasing Posey

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously the normal disclaimers. Pure fantasy, nothing to do with reality. Prompted by Tyler Posey's comments about his weight gain on the DVD of Series 1.

Tyler let himself into the apartment. It had seemed to be a particularly gruelling day filming on location. He dragged himself slowly towards the kitchen. Today had been a wolf day – hours in the makeup chair, then running around outside in more than usually freezing weather getting background shots. And then, when he had finally gotten the wolf stuff off, Jeff had discretely pulled him to one side for a ‘quiet word’. Reaching the door of the living area, he was treated to a vision of Dylan dancing around the table with his normal exuberance and enthusiasm, singing along raucously to the iPod that was playing in the background. Dylan glanced over as Tyler slumped into a chair, and grinned at him. He was entirely unselfconscious. Tyler knew he would have blushed and immediately shut up if Dylan had caught him in similar circumstances.

“Going down, down, down, for the morning. Most beautiful BOY I have ever seen…”

Dylan shouted out his change to the lyrics as he punched Tyler on the shoulder, before dancing over to the fridge.

“Come over here with your heart…”

Dylan subsided into semi-silence as he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge, humming along to the music as he took off the tops and handed one over to Tyler. Tyler took it reflexively, before remembering that he shouldn’t.

Dylan seemed to pick up on Tyler’s subdued mood. He stopped dancing, though still shifted with his normal restless energy as he stood across from Tyler.

“Hey, T, cheer up man. You’ve finished. It’s a wrap. Done. Nothing bar the red carpets and screaming adulation of the many, many Posey admirers.” Dylan clinked his beer bottle against Tyler’s.

“And the reshoots back in LA”. Tyler was particularly downbeat about that.

“Yeah, but only a few, right? And most of those are with me, so – bonus.”

Tyler sighed, and took a drag on his beer. “Yeah, but… half my reshoots are shirtless scenes.”

Dylan smiled at him – a wide grin that verged on a leer. “Well, sex sells. The more bare chest shots they see, the better the public loves you. As long as it is your bare chest, of course. Mine is staying strictly under wraps.” 

Tyler looked up at that. He could not understand Dylan’s aversion to showing off his body on camera. Dylan was wearing what he usually wore off set – a long sleeved T shirt that hugged the contours of his torso. Stiles may be perpetually dressed in the baggiest of clothes, but it was only because the muscled tones of Dylan would be incongruous with the character – Dylan said he refused to do shirtless scenes because it was not who Stiles was (he normally said it in an affected “luvvie” voice, playing the caricature of a method actor). Dylan’s built chest, surprisingly broad biceps and impossibly lean waist were all shown to advantage in what he was wearing now. Tyler sighed again. This was not helping.

“Yeah. You do not know how lucky you are. Not that you have anything to hide. I, on the other hand…” Tyler tailed off.

Dylan moved round behind Tyler, putting his beer down on the table and placing his hands on Tyler’s shoulders to give him a shoulder rub. 

“What’s up T Pose? You are not your normal bright sunny self.” He carried on rubbing, kneading at the tension in Tyler’s muscles. Tyler could feel Dylan’s long fingers pulling at the back of his neck.

“I put on, like, a shit load of weight this season.”

“Well, you are supposed to be a beefy sex god. That’s why they hired you. That, and your weird jawline.”

“No, not weight in a good way. Weight in a bad way. You know I hate working out. And those buffalo wings that Laurent kept doing. And the pizzas… And Jeff called me on it today.”

“Called you on what? You look adorable to me.”

Tyler could hear the grin in Dylan’s voice. “He said, specifically, I was getting chubby and, very specifically that I have to go back to Tony in LA to work out, and very, very, specifically that I need to get back to being buff before the reshoots.”

“Dude, you look great. Jeff is probably just cranky because we went over budget again.”

“No…”Tyler refused to be cajoled into a better humour. “He is right. I know I have gotten fatter. You can tell, even my face.” He put the half empty bottle of beer back on the table. “I shouldn’t have drunk that, either.”

“Hey.” Dylan was sounding forceful. “Look, you have four days before we head out to LA, right? So, four days of enjoying yourself, before Tony makes your life a misery and you spend three weeks puking up and eating broccoli.”

Dylan pulled his hands off Tyler’s shoulders. Tyler was secretly relieved. Shoulder rubs were not Dylan’s forte. He was way too energetic to make them soothing. Tyler heard the fridge door open and close again, and another two beer caps being removed.

“Here. Finish your beer. Have another. Kick back on the couch. Dinner is in hand.”

Tyler pulled himself up, grabbed his half-finished beer along with the second bottle Dylan had put on the table and headed towards the couch. “Dude, you did not have to cook. The deal was you get the groceries. Not that you cook all the time too.”

“I didn’t cook.” Dylan smiled as the doorbell chimed. “I ordered.” He disappeared off to get the door, returning with two cardboard boxes.

“Pepperoni.” Dylan handed the larger of the two boxes to Tyler. “And I got extra pineapple on my vegetarian, so hands off.” He squashed onto the couch next to Tyler.

“Why are you having a small?”

“Not that hungry” Dylan’s voice was muffled around the slice of pizza he was eating.

“And why is mine extra large?”

“Because you are always hungry, and because you need feeding up.” Dylan poked at Tyler’s stomach at that last comment, causing Tyler to reflexively move back. Tyler looked at him, and then leaned back to open his pizza box. Dylan grabbed again at Tyler’s stomach as he bent over, and yelped out as Tyler batted his hand away.

 

 

Finishing his pizza, Dylan bounded up off the couch, and headed back to the fridge for more beers. Tyler called out to protest without really meaning it, and Dylan just ignored him. He was a bad influence at the best of times, and seemed to be peculiarly motivated this evening. They rarely set out to get drunk, but it looked like tonight might be one of those nights. Coming back to the couch, Dylan threw himself back against the cushions, jostling into Tyler as he did. Tyler groaned, and pushed the pizza box onto the table.

“Dude, there are two slices left – you cannot waste good food.”

“Dylan, bro, did you not hear me say I have Tony from next week? That I need to get back to being buff?” 

“Listen to me, Posey” Dylan gesticulated with his beer bottle to emphasise his words. A couple of drops splashed onto his jeans, unnoticed. “I am not shelling out my hard earned cash on good quality pizza, just so you can callously reject it. You need meat on your bones anyway, to give Tony something to work with.” Dylan reached into the box, grabbed a slice of pizza, and pushed it towards Tyler’s face. 

“Dude…” Tyler was pleading.

“Come on T. Open wide. Let the choo-choo train come into the tunnel…” Tyler resolutely shut his mouth. “Right”. Dylan seemed to sense a challenge. Putting the pizza back on the top of the box and depositing his beer on the table, he pushed himself on top of Tyler, legs either side of his waist. He caught one of Tyler’s hands in one of his own, and started to struggle to get the other hand locked down. Tyler was struggling back, half-heartedly, allowing himself to be caught. Dylan reached his free hand behind him, to snag the pizza slice again.

“Come on Posey. You must finish all your dinner if you want to grow up a big strong boy. And it will put hair on your chest”. Dylan paused momentarily. “Though I guess if it does Jeff will make you shave it off.” Dylan pushed the pizza slice towards Tyler’s face again, Tyler shaking his head from side to side to stop him. Suddenly, Dylan smeared the pizza over Tyler’s mouth and chin, before throwing the slice back onto the box lid behind him.

“Dude…” Tyler made a tone of mock outrage. “What are you, five?”

“Sorry bro”. Dylan was not sorry, and his face showed it. “Let me clean you up.” Leaning in, he licked a broad stripe up Tyler’s face, from chin to cheekbone.

“Eugh, gross”. Tyler was protesting, but stopped moving his head to evade Dylan. He was also not protesting too hard. 

“I missed a bit.” Dylan leaned back in, and went straight for Tyler’s mouth. Without even a pretence of doing anything else he kissed Tyler. Tyler opened his mouth in surprise, and then in response.

The kiss was rough and energetic - energetic because everything Dylan did was energetic. Dylan was still straddling Tyler, pushing into him now to close the gap between them, bringing his hands up to either side of Tyler’s face. Tyler twitched his mouth into the kiss, repressing a smile at the thought he had just had.

Suddenly Tyler ran his hands up and down Dylan’s back – not in a passionate way, but with a clear sense of wiping them clean. Dylan broke the kiss.

“Did you just clean your hands on my T shirt?”

Tyler grinned back in a slightly evil manner, and then leant in to wipe his face deliberately across Dylan’s front. A stain of tomato sauce smeared across Dylan’s chest. Tyler wiped his mouth back and forth again – relishing the firm pecs he could feel beneath the tight fabric.

“Better take that off before the stain sets” Tyler murmured. 

Dylan reached down to the hem of his shirt and tugged it off slowly. Tyler breathed heavily as the smooth, toned muscles of Dylan’s stomach came into view, with the short run of dark and oddly thick hair trailing from navel to the top of Dylan’s jeans. Dylan tugged the shirt higher and Tyler’s gaze drifted up, following the fabric as Dylan uncovered the pale skin of his chest. As Dylan struggled to pull the shirt over his head, Tyler leaned in with his mouth and began to kiss across Dylan’s pecs. Dylan seemed to be in some kind of tussle with his shirt – it was his fault for wearing something so tight, Tyler thought. As Dylan finally pulled his head free, he let out a moan. Tyler was suckling at Dylan’s left nipple, alternating his kissing action by running his tongue round in circles. He could taste the slightly salty tang of Dylan’s skin.

“Christ, do that again.”

Tyler obliged, before moving across slowly to Dylan’s other nipple. Dylan began to grind his dick into Tyler’s lap. Tyler could feel his own dick, hard beneath the denim of his jeans, pushing against Dylan’s. Dylan reached down to pull up Tyler’s shirt, but Tyler pushed his hand away.

“No, dude, I…” Tyler muttered self-consciously, and then his mouth was back on Dylan’s chest. Dylan stopped trying to untuck Tyler’s shirt, and seemed happy to abandon himself to the pleasure Tyler was giving him. He gradually leaned forward into Tyler’s mouth, pushing them both back onto the couch until they were lying across it. 

Tyler worked his way up Dylan’s chest and neck with his mouth, until he could start kissing him in the crook of his jaw. Dylan was moaning enthusiastically now, and pulled Tyler’s head up further so that they could resume kissing. Tyler could taste pineapple and beer as he pushed his tongue into Dylan’s mouth. He slid his hands down the warm, muscled flesh of Dylan’s back as Dylan lay on top of him, and started to push his hands under the loose waistband of Dylan’s jeans. Tyler could feel the movement of Dylan’s butt cheeks through his boxer briefs as he rutted against him. The action seemed to inspire Dylan, who moved his hands over Tyler’s shirt to his jeans. Tyler could feel Dylan struggling to push a hand under the waistband, but the jeans were too tight. Tyler felt his cheeks start to burn with embarrassment, but the fact seemed to spur Dylan to a more frenzied action. Dylan grabbed at Tyler’s butt through the denim of his jeans, as he could not get his hand under the material.

“You have a fantastic bubble butt” he muttered, thrusting faster against Tyler. “I can’t think why Jeff would want to change it”. 

Tyler had a sudden thought, as he felt the urgency of Dylan’s thrusts on top of him, that Dylan liked him being a little bit chubby.

“You… you… you are a chaser!”

Dylan said nothing. Tyler could feel him shuddering, his butt cheeks clenching suddenly with additional vigour creating a taut sense of energy, and Dylan panted out a drawn out “Arrrgh” as he came into his boxers. Dylan slumped weakly against him, slowing his thrusts while breathing deeply.

Dylan lifted his head from where it had come to rest agains Tyler’s shoulder in order to plant a quick kiss on his mouth. “Sure I am. I remember, seeing you in the pilot – that scene when you were being chased by the alpha after a night in the woods. Jeff had you scrambling up a bank, wearing just your shorts, you remember?”

Tyler nodded. Dylan kissed him again.

“There is this great shot of you from behind. You were all buff – Tony had been working you hard – but your ass was there right in the shot. This beautiful bubble butt filling the screen. Although that may have been me focusing a bit intensely. And that is when I said to myself ‘I am going to tap that’”.

Dylan suddenly pushed himself up. 

“But before we get to that…” He rested one hand on Tyler’s stomach, seeming to enjoy the sensation of soft flesh beneath Tyler’s shirt, before bringing his other hand down to rest on top of the bulge in Tyler’s jeans. Slowly, deliberately, without breaking eye contact, he began to palm Tyler’s dick. Tyler was already close to the edge. The sight of Dylan’s lithe body, the muscles of his torso moving and his biceps flexing as he worked his hand around, brought release with almost embarrassing haste. Tyler felt his orgasm building, and pushed his hips up into Dylan’s hand as he came, desperately seeking the friction. 

“Fuck, Dyl…”.

He came explosively, in way he had not done since he was a teenager.

 

 

They lay in each other’s arms for maybe half an hour. Tyler gently stroked the hair running along Dylan’s forearms. He had amazingly hairy forearms. Dylan had one hand resting on Tyler’s stomach, on top of his shirt. He occasionally leaned in to nuzzle at Tyler, or to plant a kiss or a nibble on his neck – Tyler reciprocating when the chance arose. 

The damp patch in Tyler’s groin was starting to be uncomfortable, however. The tightness of his jeans meant that the damp fabric was pressing against him. 

“I’m going to get cleaned up” he said. Dylan kissed him again. 

“Sure, T.”

Tyler slowly disentangled himself and made his way towards the bathroom. 

 

 

Tyler stood, looking irresolutely at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He was not entirely sure why things had moved in the direction that they had that evening, but he was certainly not against what had happened. He had rather hoped things would continue.

“Admiring the Posey face? Because there is a queue of people waiting to do that.”

Dylan’s voice from the doorway caused Tyler to jump. Dylan wandered in – two beers clutched in one hand. 

“I came to see if you needed any help with cleaning up.”

Tyler felt his face flushing again. “I, err…”

Dylan moved suddenly across the room, put the beers on one side of the sink and jumped up to sit on the other side.

“Don’t mind me”. Dylan’s grin was impish. “You carry on.”

Tyler just looked at him.

“Go on, T. Let me know if I can do anything to help…”

Tyler slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Dylan watched each movement with bright eyes, his mouth slightly open and his breath coming out with an audible hiss. Tyler pulled his shirt free from his waistband, and undid the cuffs. The cotton shirt hung open, showing a narrow strip of tan flesh down the centre of his body. Dylan licked his lips and squirmed slightly from his vantage point by the sink.

“Are you gonna take that off?”

Tyler grinned self consciously as he slowly pulled an arm out of the shirt, then looked away from Dylan as he pulled his second arm free and threw the shirt behind him. Dylan grunted out a guttural sound.

“Dude, that is one hot body.”

Tyler looked at him, searching for evidence of sarcasm, but getting only lust from Dylan’s gaze. 

“I told you I had gotten chubby.” Tyler was feeling defensive. “I am hardly hot.”

“T, you look fantastic. You have those great pecs, with just the right amount of meat on them to make them interesting. I could play with them all night, pulling the soft skin around your nipples, chasing over them with my tongue…”

Tyler was hard again. Having Dylan talk to him like this was like some strange erotic fantasy. “Go on.” His voice sounded weird – croaky. “What else would you do?”

“I’d run my tongue down under your chest and trace the design of your tattoo, and slowly edge my mouth down to the soft flesh of your belly.” Dylan was shifting restlessly on the counter top, and Tyler could see the bulge in his jeans. “I’d drag my fingers slowly over the chubby, pliant skin of your stomach. I’d grab your love handles and use them to pull you against me, gently biting my way around that little ridge of fat you have just above your waistband, licking where the belly overhangs your jeans.

Tyler was uncomfortably hard in his jeans now, his dick pressing against the buttons of his fly. “God, Dylan, I need to…”

Dylan looked on with rapt attention. “Go on then.”

Tyler quickly unbuttoned his jeans. The relief of loosening the constraining fabric was considerable. There was a red ridge where the waist had dug into his soft flesh. He bent down to take the jeans off, only to be interrupted by a moan from Dylan.

“What is it?”

“You need to be bending over a whole lot more. More bending, more of the time. The way your belly rippled as you lent forwards. The rolls of fat…” Dylan was looking lasciviously at Tyler. “If you took off you boxers, you would have to bend forwards again.”

Tyler half turned so that he had his profile to Dylan. Slowly, very deliberately, he grabbed the waistband of his boxers and leant forwards, sliding the taut material off of himself. His erection sprang free, and as he lent down his dick reared up to meet the soft flesh of his stomach. Dylan breathed out with a loud sound of pleasure. 

“Fuck, Tyler. Your body, the way it moves…”

Slowly Tyler stood back upright, and looked with some defiance at Dylan.

“Now what?”

“You wanted to get cleaned up. You had better get cleaned up.” Dylan was rubbing one hand over the front of his jeans. “Just… just leave the shower curtain open. You know, in case you need help.”

Tyler turned, eliciting another gasp from Dylan.

“I am so going to tap that ass.”

Tyler gave a snort of laughter, and stepped into the bath.

“Oh my God, T, you are killing me. The way your butt wobbles up and down”. 

Tyler deliberately slapped at his rear, causing a theatrical moan from Dylan.

“Your butt cheeks sort of jiggle together, it is like you have discovered the secret of perpetual motion. Your bubble butt is a scientific miracle.

Tyler turned on the shower, and as it warmed up stepped into the spray. He turned a couple of times to soak himself, and shifted to face towards where Dylan sat. Dylan was pushing himself forwards, off the edge of the counter into a standing position, his eyes bright as he gazed at Tyler. Tyler smiled again, looking up and down Dylan’s body.

“How do you stay so toned? You eat as badly as I do and…”

“Nervous energy I guess”. Dylan shrugged, and slowly undid his jeans. As soon as he had unzipped them the loose fabric slid to his ankles, and he stepped out. His dark boxer shorts were showing the bulge of his dick very clearly. Whether the dark stain was where Dylan had already come, or whether it was pre come, Tyler could not be certain, but the bulge alone was promising. Still looking at Dylan, he leant to one side to pick up his shower gel.

“Oh. My. God.” Dylan was being emphatic. “We are so getting some baby oil.”

Tyler looked quizzically at him. He did not understand the reference.

“Dude, the way the light glistens off your wet skin. And the way your love handles sort of creased up when you leant over. I want to see more of that too…”

Dylan was tearing his boxer shorts off with urgency, tripping his way out of them as he stumbled towards the shower. Tyler shuffled to one side to make room for him. Dylan stood behind Tyler, putting his hands on his chest and gently thrusting his dick up between Tyler’s butt cheeks towards the base of his spine. Tyler started leaking pre come again at the sensation. The feel of Dylan against his soft flesh was almost too much. Dylan’s hands slowly traced down Tyler’s body, coming to rest on either side of his waist. Tyler could hear Dylan’s excited breathing, his mouth right next to Tyler’s ear. He felt Dylan’s hands slowly jiggle his plump stomach, and Dylan’s breathing give a small hitch of excitement at he felt Tyler’s fleshy belly respond. Dylan seemed to be feeling with his fingers for Tyler’s muscles, lurking beneath the surface.

Tyler abruptly turned the water off. “I can’t hold out much longer. Your place or mine?”

A short laugh from Dylan. “Mine, I think. I have supplies.”

The attempts to towel themselves dry were cursory, and they were both damp as they ran naked towards Dylan’s room. Dylan led the way, and was fumbling for lube as Tyler threw himself onto the bed.

“Dylan?” Dylan looked up. “I am assuming you want to tap me first?” Dylan licked at his lips, and nodded. 

“if that’s OK with you? I mean, I am happy to let you go for it, but I have been fantasising about this for a while now, and I really…”

Tyler just nodded. Dylan had already gotten the cap of the tube of lube, and was liberally coating his fingers. “On all fours, I think Posey. Make like you are wolf running.”

Tyler rolled over, and pushed himself onto all fours. Dylan, slowly started to coat around his hole with the lube while his left hand grasped at Tyler’s stomach.

“Mmmmm. You are all squidgy”. The back of Dylan’s hand brushed against Tyler’s dick. The action sent electric shockwaves up Tyler’s spine and he gasped. Dylan continued to rub his hand across Tyler’s stomach. “Well, some of you feels pretty firm”.

Dylan withdrew his hand, and Tyler braced himself for the penetrating sensation of fingers. What he actually felt came as a shock.

“Dylan, man, are you… is that… you… is that your tongue?”

Dylan’s reply was muffled. “What, dude, you think I am going to pass on a chance to get up close and personal with a butt as fine as this?”

Tyler could feel Dylan’s hot breath and the stab of his tongue against Tyler’s entrance. The electric sensation was back. He moaned into each thrust that Dylan made. “Dude, that is….” 

Slowly the pace lessened, and Tyler could feel Dylan’s tongue moving upwards. There was a sudden sharp, painful but not painful sensation on his right butt cheek. “Dude, you just bite my ass?”

“I have a bit of a kink for your ass, in case you hadn’t noticed”. Dylan sounded unrepentant, and slowly inserted a lubed finger into Tyler, bringing all conversation to a complete halt. Tyler was just about capable of moaning now. Articulating words were going to be beyond him, possibly for some time. Dylan had no problem with talking though.

“I am going to open you up.” A second finger was inserted, and Tyler pushed back onto it with an escape of breath followed by a keening sound of pleasure. “And then I am going to spread your chubby ass open, and fuck you while you moan beneath me. And then I am going to flip you over and watch as you jerk yourself off, and cover that fat little belly of yours in come.

Tyler was not sure he was going to last long enough for that to happen. 

Dylan continued. “I don’t think my fingers are reaching deep enough. I think you have gotten too chubby to be satisfied by fingers. There is too much meat on your ass. I think I need to get something longer into you.”

Tyler just nodded feebly. Dylan withdrew his fingers, and Tyler could hear him fumbling with a condom. Moments later Tyler felt a stab of pain as Dylan inserted his dick. Tyler looked over his shoulder at Dylan’s flushed face, a pink blush spreading over his body, his tongue wetting his lips as he focused on Tyler. Dylan gave another push and Tyler was rewarded with a feeling of fullness and then a spasm of pleasure as Dylan found his prostate.

“Oh God yes, Dylan. Right there.” 

Dylan began to slowly thrust back and forth, making a soft and slightly obscene slapping sound as the firm muscles at the front of his thighs came into contact with the twin soft bubbles that formed the mounds of Tyler’s ass cheeks.

“You… ughhh… you OK T?”

Tyler gave half a glance over his shoulder, as the rhythmic slapping sound began to increase in pace. He nodded weakly while frantically grasping at his dick.

“Fuck, Tyler, we have to film this next time. Your butt cheeks sort of vibrate, and your love handles are bouncing up and down and there are these creases in your back fat that come and go as I thrust and…”

Dylan suddenly pulled out. Tyler looked up sharply.

“Dude, what the hell? Why….?”

“I am too close. On your back, Posey. I want to watch you come. I want you to watch me come inside of you.”

Tyler rolled over, lying back on the duvet cover with his knees drawn up and his legs apart. Dylan stood panting out deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. His stomach muscles were rising and falling and his dick was twitching inside its condom.

When he was ready Dylan grabbed Tyler under each knee, and pulled him along the duvet towards him. Tyler could feel the surprising strength in Dylan’s hands. Suddenly Dylan pulled up Tyler’s right leg, to rest the calf on his left shoulder.

“I need you as open as possible, if I am to get deep inside you.”

Dylan’s voice was a throaty, guttural noise. Tyler nodded weakly from his prone position.

“Dude, you have almost a double chin when you nodded then. That is just so fucking sexy.” 

Dylan pushed himself back in to Tyler and gave a slow movement – too slow to be called a thrust – which caused Tyler to whimper. Repeating the movement Dylan allowed his long fingers to trail up and down over Tyler’s stomach, feeling his way over the ridges of fat that had rolled up as a result of Tyler’s position. Suddenly he grabbed at Tyler’s dick. Tyler felt a twinge of ecstasy as Dylan rubbed his thumb over the tip, and gently squeezed up and down.

“Dylan, I am not going to last…”

“It’s OK Tyler. I am going to come soon too. I am going to come into your chubby ass. And then I am going to bring you off all over your plump belly, with come…” - Dylan’s movements were more thrusting now – “With come dripping all over your gut… “ – Dylan’s squeezing of Tyler’s dick was more erratic – “and your pudgy…”

Dylan let out a cry, coming with an energetic pulsing sensation. Tyler could feel a throbbing inside him as Dylan squirmed to his climax. Dylan gave another loud, inarticulate cry and dug his long fingers into the sides of Tyler’s ass – Tyler could feel the scratching of Dylan’s fingernails as they pulled into his flesh, seeking a purchase against his sweaty skin.

“ Now I just need to see you…”. Dylan slowly pulled himself out, and lowered Tyler's leg to the duvet. He pulled off his condom, throwing it carelessly to the floor, before launching himself onto the bed next to Tyler. He started to chase kisses along Tyler’s jaw line and cheek. Dylan’s hand was back on Tyler’s dick, and his actions had more deliberation and urgency.

“Come for me T. Let me see you spurt all over that hot, soft body of yours.”

Tyler gripped the matress with both hands as Dylan brought him closer and closer to a climax. “Dylan… so close… don’t…”

With a cry, Tyler came. Dylan slowly squeezed Tyler’s dick, creating a spasm of pleasure with each gentle pull of his fingers, and allowing Tyler’s come to spurt all over his stomach up towards his chest. When he was spent, he lay back. Dylan took his hand away from Tyler’s dick and slowly started to swirl his come across his stomach.

“Such a beautiful belly.” 

Tyler lay panting, feeling Dylan’s fingers gently rubbing over his skin. 

“That was…just…”

Dylan breathed against Tyler’s cheek. “I know”.

Tyler slowly brought his breathing back under control. “God, that was…” He could feel Dylan nibbling at his ear lobe. “Next time…” Dylan was tugging at his ear lobe with his teeth, gently. “Next time, maybe we could use some food too?”. Dylan just moaned against him. “And maybe I could fuck you?”

Dylan groaned again and nuzzled into the crook of Tyler’s jaw. “You think a frail thing like me can support a fat ass like you on top of him?”

Tyler slowly ran a hand along Dylan’s flank, gripping at the taut muscles of his ass appreciatively. “Maybe you could ride me?”

“Oh God, yes.”

Dylan’s enthusiasm was back, and his hands were moving feverishly over Tyler’s soft sides, pulling the pudgy flesh towards him.

Hands roaming over each other, they gently drifted off to sleep.


End file.
